


Present Imprefect

by stepmnstr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Nudity, Teacher/Student, might be considered chan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 21:59:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4496277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stepmnstr/pseuds/stepmnstr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Snarry Holidays 2007. Request: I would love something that has Harry guilty for how he left Snape for dead, how there was all this hatred bottled up against him. Where does that guilt go? How does Harry react to Snape post-war? How is Snape post-war? Whether he changes or not is up to you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Present Imprefect

**Author's Note:**

> the endearments used in this fic are Hungarian. According to my online translator they mean ‘my kitten’

Present Imperfect.

 

 

Harry jerked upright sweat pouring over him like sand off a hidden mummy. He felt like one with the blankets wrapped around him tight enough to mimic a Shibari spell. Damn. Even dreamless sleep potion couldn’t block that nightmare because it wasn’t a nightmare; it was a memory of the biggest failure of his life. The sweats. The shakes. The reflected echoes of his own screams, that was the … unfortunate… side effect of silencing spells, what no-one else heard you still did, as did whoever was sharing the bed with you. What a perfect way to begin the day. The same way he began each and every day. The same way he had every time he woke for years now, ever since he had left Severus alone and dying on the floor of the Shrieking Shack.

 

The war was over. He had seen to that himself with the assistance of the remainder of the Order of the Phoenix. Severus was dead. They had told him that. They had also told him there had been no way for him to survive Voldie’s wrath and Nagini’s venom. He had gone back to look for him and found … nothing. No Severus, no body – human or serpentine, no blood, no signs of struggle at all. He wouldn’t have been surprised had Severus had an anti-venom, specific for Nagini, which would also have had the effect of poisoning her. But they all still insisted Professor Snape, Headmaster Snape, Severus was dead.

And yet he wondered. The body had never been recovered and his portrait had never appeared in the Headmaster’s traditional office. Even headmasters and headmistresses with shorter tenures than Severus’ had been had their portraits appear. Harry had asked Dumbledore why there wasn’t a portrait and Dumbledore hadn’t answered. Just given him a metaphorical sherbet lemon, a pat on the head and told him that what is, is; nothing can change it and to run off and marry Ginny as everyone supposed he had always planned to do. So he had followed the portrait’s orders, just as the he had the ones he had been given when the man had been alive. He had married Ginny, watched as each of his children got their Hogwarts letter while working for the newly reconstructed Ministry of Magic and tried very hard to love his wife as she deserved not as the kid sister he had always seen her as. He tried very hard to forget that he had once had very different plans for his life. And tried even harder to forget Severus and the fact that those plans, those dreams were centred on the first person – the only person- he had truly loved.

The only people who weren’t surprised when he and Ginny separated were he and Ginny. She got what she thought she had wanted since he had saved from the Horcrux in Riddle’s diary. It wasn’t his fault (completely) nor was it hers (completely) that what she got wasn’t what she thought it would be. He tried, Merlin knew, he had tried. But it hadn’t been enough to overcome the differences between his upbringing with the Dursleys and hers with parents who loved each other first, last and always but with plenty left for the children. Or to erase the fact that he had loved Severus and loved him still as he exchanged vows with Ginny. By he had stayed and stayed until Ginny wanted to go; until she had found the one her heart truly spoke to. Who would have thought that Dean would reappear in their lives and sweep Ginny right off of her practical feet? Certainly not any of the three of them but he had and did and they were deliriously happy. Even his children were happy with their stepfather. They still had the name and perks of being Potters and they still loved him but Dean had brought something extra-ordinary to them and their mum. Harry would forever be grateful to Dean for those gifts and for his freedom. Now he just had to figure what to do with it. He knew what he was supposed to do with all this lovely freedom continue on as he had for the years as the public figure he had been groomed to be. He didn’t really want to be that man anymore. If he was honest with himself (and he really did try to be,) he never had wanted to be a public figure; had never really wanted anything more than to be Harry and to be important to just one person who would be equally important to him. The truth was that he wanted to do was to wish Ginny and Dean well, kiss the kids, avoid Ron and Hermione, get a message to Neville, Bill, the twins and Draco and just go. If it only it could be as simple as slipping on his dad’s old cloak and doing just that. It wasn’t going to happen that easily though. The man he had been this past decade and more couldn’t –just could not- vanish into thin air. He needed a plan.

With that thought he realized that he had the first step done. He had made his decision: he was going to find out the truth of what had happened to Severus. After that he’d figure out what to do next. Perhaps if he went back to Hogwarts and asked all of the portraits in the headmistress’ office he might get a different answer an actual answer. After all the worst that could happen was he got a repeat of the answer Dumbledore’s portrait had given him over a decade ago or that Headmistress Vector would not allow him access to the portrait gallery. And in that case there were ways around the headmistress. He had discovered, and practised most of them in getting past Dumbledore.

If he were really lucky... Harry broke off that train of thought immediately. Dreaming like could be dangerous and disappointing but dreaming like that had changed Professor Snape into Severus all those years ago…

 

… Lurking in the dungeons wasn’t a particularly wise thing for the boy-who-lived-to-be- 16 to be doing. Harry knew this. All his previous wandering around after curfew had brought him was more than few detentions with Filch and Snape and a few adventures. But the dungeons were the best place in all of Hogwarts to find a measure of tranquillity and time to think. No-one else in Gryffindor ever seemed to find the need for that space except for him. Or maybe they were just able to screen out the racket that seemed to be embedded in the very stones of the tower and make a space of quiet for themselves. Hermione certainly seemed to create a big bubble around her with her big thick books; Nev’s plants seemed to shelter him. The other boys in the sixth year dorm seemed to find drawn bedcurtains enough to suit them. None of those worked for him. Even with the curtains drawn he was still very much aware of the others. Studying well that actually woke up his paranoia after those years of primary school hiding his homework from Aunt Petunia so she wouldn’t know he was a least as smart as her precious Diddikin’s if not smarter. So he stole a page from the great bat of the dungeon’s book and stalked the dark and mostly deserted hallways.

 

“Mr. Potter,” that cool sibilance which made the Queen’s English sound almost like Parseltounge could only be issuing from the throat of one man. “What are you doing wandering my dungeons? And so long past curfew too? All good little Gryffindors should be safe in their tower? One would think that the lessons of detentions past and the actions of High Inquisitor Umbridge and her minions last term would have cured you of such foolhardiness.”

“Good evening, Professor Snape. I was thinking. I think best when I’m moving, well actually when I’m flying but I can’t go flying the in the middle of the night, now can I? There isn’t really any room to move freely in Gryffindor Tower…” whatever else had been planning on coming out of his mouth came to a sudden stop as his professor’s eyebrow arched halfway up his forehead

“Thinking, Potter? I was unaware that you were even remotely acquainted with such an activity. What, pray tell, is of such importance that you could not at least attempt to entertain yourself in the relative safety your own common room?”

Harry would never admit it to his friends but even a dressing down sounded good in that voice. He’d known since the Tri-Wizard tournament that he found older boys and men attractive. His disastrous attempts at dating and kissing Cho; that Goblet of Fire (a powerful magical artefact his mind supplied,) had chosen Ron for him to rescue; the fact that all the girls he was close to- Hermione, Ginny, Luna – were nothing more and nothing less than sisterish had all been really good clues. But the deciding factor was the way he had reacted to Viktor and Professor Snape. Neither one of them was, to use Lavender’s phrase; eye-candy but they each had such a presence about them. Viktor, the man on a broom was just perfection. But Snape, Snape just radiated presence all of the time, and then add in that voice, and he was lost.

“I am waiting, Mr. Potter. Although if that blank expression on your face is an accurate indicator of your thought processes I may have a long wait. Then again I do have all night. I am not breaking school rules by after curfew.”

Harry brought himself out from the trap that voice laid for him and ran his mind back over his Defence against the Dark Arts professor’s last question.

 

“Horocruxes, Professor. How to find them, how to destroy them and exactly how many did Vol…”

The stab of a finger against his chest brought him up short before he could finish more than the first syllable of the dreaded name.

“Do not say that name. I would have assumed that while your failures at Occlumency have taught you nothing that perhaps Madame Umbridge’s actions of last year or the death of Black would have done something to curb your imbecilic tendency to speak before thinking. Come with me. Now.”

A not so gentle tug on his arm informed Harry that he was not moving quickly enough to suit the tall Slytherin. He allowed the tugging and followed the swirling robes into a deserted classroom. Of course, at this time of night, all the classrooms should be empty but he never stopped being surprised by the way there always seemed to be an empty room around when you needed one; no matter where you were in the castle.

“Sit. Explain to me why such a,” the expected Snape sneer made its appearance,” Mediocre student as yourself has a need to know of the theoretical existence things as Horcruxes much less a means to destroy them.”…

 

 

…That was the night that things had begun to change for him and for Severus. He wasn’t Severus to him yet but they had begun to walk on the road that led them from Mr. Potter and Professor Snape to Potter and Snape and at last to Harry and Severus.

He had never really understood the impulse that led him to trust the professor with everything he knew on the subject that night. Especially after being told by the Headmaster that he was not to discuss the subject of Horcruxes with anyone, except for trying to get Professor Leech, Professor Slughorn Harry’s mind corrected itself. He wasn’t even to approach the subject with Dumbledore until he had got the information Dumbledore couldn’t seem to get for himself. Or couldn’t be bothered to try and get. Those topics in turn brought them to things they needed to clear between them so they could work together towards the goal that neither one of them actually expected to live to see.

Their conversation/lecture/explanation that night and on many other nights to come had led to the two of them finding out that there were things that they could discuss. Those topics in turn brought them to things they needed to clear between them so they could work together towards the goal neither one of them actually expected to live to see. Everything from the bullying that the Marauders had done – not just to Snape but other people they saw as weaker or different, just like Dudley and Piers and Gordon had done, Harry’s mind supplied. How being brought up by the Dursley’s had influenced his reaction to Hogwarts, authority figures, and magic in general. Why Potions was better than foolish wand waving even if it did use some. Why the use of Quidditch strategies in battle plans was a good thing. Why kissing a girl was supposed to be fun.

Now that had been a night! Harry’d never remembered what exactly had led the conversation to snogging but that conversation, in fact that entire evening was among his most cherished memories. They had been sitting in the library at Number 12 Grimauld Place watching the fire. It was a few days past his seventeenth birthday he had expected to feel different somehow, now that he was a legal wizard, even if he was also a dropout. Not that everyone knew he was a dropout yet. Most of those who did know figured that they had plenty of time to talk him into returning to Hogwarts for his final year and his N.E.W.T.s. but not the man sitting across the fire from him…

… “What about your hordes of admirers, Potter? Whatever are the young ladies of Hogwarts going to do without you to follow and attempt to drag off into dark corners for a quick kiss?”

“ Well they aren’t very observant admirers, are they, then? I mean if they’re trying to drag me off for a quick snog. If they were, I’m sure they would have noticed that girls aren’t my cuppa.” Harry snarked back, taking another sip of his very grown up drink enjoying the moment with Snape. “With both Draco and me gone maybe they’ll chase Ron. That’d make him happy at least.” Snape was treating him as an adult. Finally.

As the implications of Harry’s statement registered in Snape's brain his eyebrow rose, just slightly, but it did. This had been a major announcement and he had delivered it as an off the cloak statement of fact. Harry watched Severus’ face carefully waiting for the almost expected taunt. Even after all this time he still was waiting for the other boot to drop when he shared something personal with anyone. The time they had spent working together had led to trust in each other and he really wanted this man to understand. His reactions to the man’s simple presence and not mention his voice hadn’t ever gone away. But they weren’t the only things that drew him to this man. Those may have been the first things to attract his attention but there was so much more to hold his it: the snarky humour, the skilful way he worked not just with potions but managed the people around him, the eyes, the knowledge, the strength- all of the things that made Snape Severus. He felt as if he had been given the key to the greatest puzzle of the ages and knew that no matter how close he got he would always wind up being surprised by the man across from him.

As his thoughts flew in circles he didn’t notice that Snape was studying him from behind the amber liquor in his glass. Didn’t realise that his gaze followed that glass to Severus’ mouth, watched the fall of the sleeve from the graceful wrist as he raised his glass to his lips, touched the rim with his tongue. Didn’t realise that his breathing had sped up just a tad as he leant forward in his chair, that he was slightly flushed, didn’t realise that his feelings were written so clearly across his face that Snape couldn’t have ignored them if he’d wanted to do so.

Somehow Severus was there. On the arm of his chair those graceful fingers raising his chin bringing his eyes up to look into those dark eyes that seemed made for secrets. Only there were no secrets there now, only acknowledgement. And maybe a hint of laughter?

“Not your cuppa, Potter? Is that the best you can do?”

Yes it was laughter. Before he had a chance to get annoyed at the fact the man, who was sitting so very close, was laughing at him, Severus moved. Moved closer to him, his head dipping down to Harry’s level, the black hair swinging forward to block the rest of the room from view. Harry lifted his face and their lips met…

 

…That had been a night, indeed. There had been so many beginnings for them, so many obstacles to overcome. The private personal ones, those they had battled over worked through and compromised on. They had never really had a chance to discuss much less deal with the public issues. Golden boy and dark spy, Gryffindor and Slytherin, older and younger, male and male. He’d never really considered the Wizarding world’s reaction to gay couples anymore than he’d thought about it in the muggle world. Harry’d never seen gay couples in either world but the he supposed he wouldn’t have seen them he wasn’t looking for them as a boy of eleven. And by the time it mattered to him how the world would react he’d already had his reputation so trashed that he could almost not care at all. Almost. Thank you, Rita Skeeter, and company.

 

They had discussed it, he and Severus, more than once. There were other wizards of their persuasion, and yes witches too, but with the birth rate so low and their population so small it was considered more important to have children than to be happy. So even if Severus had survived that final battle they both would have been expected to marry some willing witch and have more Potters and Snapes. They would have been expected to but would they have been willing to? Harry knew Severus and what Severus wanted had been more important to him than Ginny’s wishes. He also knew that Severus had had a possessive streak wider than a Quidditch pitch. Maybe that was why it had been so easy to see Ginny go off with Dean. He remembered happy and didn’t want her to miss her chance and to settle for mere contentment as he had done.

 

~~**~~**~~

 

There it was done. Goodbyes said, letters owled, leave arranged for and the house closed up. He felt lighter some how than he had in years, as he made his way through the public Floo in Hogsmeade. The day was pleasant and so were his thoughts. He decided to take a short stroll down memory lane before heading to Hogwarts, Headmistress Vector, and the talking heads of the portrait gallery.

Things had certainly changed in the village since he had first been there as a third year hiding under his father’s invisibility cloak. No wanted posters for one thing and no Dementors for another. There was an aura of peace, of safety that hadn’t been here then. Harry was grateful for it and for the new stores and other businesses that sprung up in recent years. Not just the twins’ second store but a toy store, a second book store, the ice cream palace that Florian’s grandson had opened here and several more that he knew were there but didn’t look for as he made his way slowly down the main street towards the still abandoned Shrieking Shack.

 

He stood at the rickety gate. There was the tree he had hidden behind after tossing handfuls of mud at Draco, Malfoy as he was to him then. There was the pile of stones he and Severus has used to leave updates and messages for each other that horrible last year of war. The remainder of the front garden was as overgrown and wild looking as it had been since Remus’ first year. The paths were completely hidden from view unless you knew them. Harry had once known them well enough to walk them blindfolded…

 

“This’s insane! I’m never going to need to find my way through here blind!” Harry protested quietly but firmly as Severus secured the black silk and leather band across his eyes. “There is no need for this. I won’t come here unless you’re here, you know that. I gave you my word.”

 

“Yes, Harry, I have your word and I trust that you intend to keep it. But not everything will go as we will it.”

 

“It never has so far. I get the point but why here? Why now? You’ve led me blindfolded through the dungeons and your chambers and Grimauld Place.” That voice could make him agree to almost anything. He was glad in times like this that he and Severus had already discussed those things that he couldn’t bring himself to do. Severus had also agreed to stay well within those limits, both in the training they did for the war and otherwise. He had to admit there was something … different about making his way around those places with only Severus’ voice to guide him.

“Harry, you trust me, yes? Then trust that this exercise is important.”

He did trust him.

It had taken time and a battle between heart and head but his heart had won. Severus trusted Harry and Harry trusted Severus. Harry sighed and tried to relax as Severus’ nimble fingers finished tightening the straps around the back of his head. Then it hit him what was really different this time. This wasn’t in Grimauld Place or behind locked doors in the dungeons of the school- this was outside! Where anyone could see him!

“You said you trusted me Harry, to make sure that you are safe, did you mean that?”

A quick nod of Harry’s head answered the question as he tried to regain control of his breathing.

“We did discuss this. You did agree. You can do this. You will do this.” There was a touch of icy steel under the normal chocolate/whiskey/silk of Severus’ voice. He had had his chance to argue and now it was time to obey.

“Yes, sir.” One deep breath and his posture straightened as Severus dropped a fleeting kiss on the top of his head and moved to whatever observation point he had selected…

 

… He shook his head and suddenly realised that he made it to the front door of the house without even realising that he was moving. So much for the constant vigilance that Moody had preached until his death. He pressed his palm against the door and murmured the password they had placed on the door so many years before. It wouldn’t keep everyone out of the place but without it no-one could see the secrets they had hidden there. He thought it likely that password had died from lack of use over the years. He had never returned after that awful night when he discovered that not only had Nagini killed his future but the evidence had been erased as well. If Severus was as dead as everyone kept insisting he was then there wasn’t another soul on the planet who would even had a reason to guess that there were password-protected places in the apparently falling down shack. He really wanted to visit them again before facing Professor Vector and everyone else up at the castle. He wanted answers to his questions not to have to answer anyone else’s. He wanted… No, he needed those answers.

 

This was the room, their room. Their hiding place from expectations and accusations, murderer/hero, saviour/traitor, here it was just them, just Severus and Harry, and that was all they needed. Well that and time. There never seemed to be enough time. There hadn’t been enough time in the end….

… “You’re actually here! I wasn’t sure… I was worried when the report came in…”

Severus silenced his words with a breath stealing, heart warming, and knee weakening kiss. Hands in his hair pulling his head back exposing his throat and the necklace he always wore, to Severus’ greedy gaze. It was as if Severus needed the reassurance as badly as he did. He was alive. They were both alive. He was here. They were here together. It was good.

 

“Why would I not be where I said I would be? I told you I would send for you when I returned. Have I ever failed to keep my word to you? You obviously received my message as you are here.” The words were calm cool rational in direct contrast to the heat of his mouth against Harry’s and the urgency of his hands. “Our time is short right now. His plans are coming to fruition and you are ready.”

Don’t wanna talk about him or the Order or the future. Just wanna be here now with you,” Harry mumbled into Severus’ chest. If He pressed any closer he’d be halfway under Severus’ skin. ”It’s been too long since we’ve been here. I was worried and I missed you.”

“Hush, az cicam. There is no need for such emotional babbling,” Severus’ hands Moved with a delicate but proprietary touch tracing the lines oh Harry’s neck and back. He appeared to delight in the small shivers that pulled Harry closer to him.

The soft gasps and small sighs forced from Harry punctuated the harsh complaints and strict admonishments that fell from Severus’ lips. Murmuring words to hold him still, keep him in place as he was explored and possessed. Harry felt as if Severus was numbering each bump of his spine slowly counting his way down to Harry’s hips. Each movement of his hands was a new step in a familiar dance. Tracing their way across his back leaving lingering trails of fire even through the cloth of his shirt, reminding him once again that this was where he wanted to be why he belonged heart and soul to this man.

“Severussssss.” It was breath on the borderline of English and Parseltongue passing all that Harry had to give into Severus’ kiss. Harsh, sheltering, demanding, loving. Everything that Severus was to Harry was in that kiss. The tingling of his skin where Severus’ hands had so recently traced their patterns warred with the fire that his kiss was causing. Harry felt warm and shivery and flushed all at once. Such was the knowledge that he was exactly where he'd longed to be for so long. Here within these strong arms he was home.

“Az cicam you missed me? Have you behaved whilst I was away?” Ordinary words asking ordinary questions but the tone of voice… so hungry, so needy, so possessive, so sure. His fingers tracing the line of Harry’s necklace tightening it up so it now rested at the base of his neck, slightly thicker, slightly blacker, and much more visible. The necklace had been his gift to Harry his reminder of what they shared what they had promised to each other. While they were apart it was just a necklace such as any young man his age might have picked up somewhere. Nothing special unless you looked closely enough at it to realise that the leather was actually serpent skin twined with fine silver wire. And yet when they were together and alone it was more.

“I have missed you, my kitten. Shall I show you how much?” Severus’ quiet words were not so much a question as a statement of intent

Harry’s small moan was his only answer as they moved closer to wall. The taller stronger form of his lover moved him as he willed. All he had to do was allow the force of nature that was Severus’ to place him where he was wanted. His hands were busy with the innumerable buttons that were encasing Severus in his severe black robes. He hadn’t waited for permission, as he had stated, it had been so long and he had missed the man so much. Harry figured that this once he would be forgiven. After all it was almost a Gryffindor motto that it was easier to get forgiveness than permission.

Severus continued to manoeuvre Harry around the room. Harry had no attention to spare for the simple things, like where were they going. All of his focus was on those wonderful, shiny, evil jet buttons. His fingers feverishly fumbling, trying to get the prize underneath, the warmth of Severus’ skin .The feel of the wall behind his shoulders came as complete surprise, as did the command to stop. He looked up confused, his hands dropping slowly to his sides. The glint in Severus’ eyes might not have reassured anyone else but it was exactly what Harry wanted to see.

“Position yourself.”

It took a moment for the words to filter through the haze in Harry’s brain but by the time they had registered his hands were between his head and the wall and his eyes were gazing at the floor. He couldn’t, wouldn't look up but he could feel Severus’ eyes cataloguing him from head to toe. He could feel the heat and the blush that rose following this inspection. Knowing that even the enveloping robes hid nothing from his lover and oh Merlin, he liked that idea!

“Do you know how good you look like this? Pinned to the wall just waiting for me? Just standing there for me to decide what to do with you. Whether to play with you, put you to work or just leave you there as decoration. After all, the Headmaster of Hogwarts has quite a bit of paperwork to catch up on.” Severus was almost purring, as he spoke, the rich tones of his voice caressed Harry long before the actual words filtered into his brain. A murmured phrase and an almost invisible wand flick sent Harry’s robes flying to the other side of the room. He shivered with the combined sensations of instant nudity and the increased heat of Severus’ attention. “Well perhaps the paperwork can wait. Look at me, az cicam.”

Harry looked at Severus. The gap where he had managed to undo at least some of those bloody buttons framed a pale slice of skin. There was so much to see, to touch, to enjoy, to devour, and to worship. His need was plain in his eyes, he knew, and there was an echoing need in the ink black eyes that gazed back at him. This was the moment of truth for them. It always had been. That moment when they both were sure that they were here by choice. That this wasn’t a temporary arrangement. Harry had chosen Severus and for his part, Severus had chosen Harry.

 

“I believe, Harry, that you were in the process of releasing me from my teaching robes? Would you like to finish that task?” Severus’ long fingers ran down the line of button. “Ah yes I see that you would enjoy that. But, my kitten, your hands are confined and I do not plan to release them any time soon. How shall you manage?”

“May I approach?”

At Severus’ silent nod Harry stepped forward, being careful not to overbalance. As much fun as it would be to land in a heap at the taller man’s feet, he had just been issued a challenge. He stopped just a few inches away and bowed his head. There was enough static in the air to cause his always-untameable hair to arch towards the man in front of him. A deep inhalation brought him the scents of potions ingredients and wood smoke that Severus carried with him always. A small smile, quickly hidden, graced his mouth as the cool touch of fingers under his chin brought his head up. His chin balanced on the tips of the finders of one hand, the long nails on the other hand lightly traced a trail down the side of this neck to the notch at the base of his throat.

“Well az cicam, what have you planned?”

Wordlessly he leant forward, brushing his check against the textured cloth before rising slightly up and taking the first button in his teeth. This wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d thought it sounded. He hadn’t really thought of the fact that tiny buttons meant tiny buttonholes and they really weren’t co-operating with him. This truly did sound easier than it was but a challenge had been issued and he wasn’t a Gryffindor for nothing. Struggling, he managed one and had started on the next when he overbalanced and fell against Severus. Finding as he was caught in strong arms, that his battle with the buttons had had an interesting affect on Severus. The calm façade was slightly marred by the feeling of quickening harsh breaths and the increasing strength of Severus’ grip as he pulled him even closer. Harry felt as if his skin were melting with the heat radiating off Severus’ robes. His fingers developed a mind of their own, as they frantically scrabbled at the remaining buttons. He hadn’t even realised that he dropped them from the top of his head. That he had moved them without permission. It didn’t seem to matter near as much as getting those buttons undone and reaching Severus. Nothing mattered but reaching Severus, touching Severus and being touched by Severus.

 

Suddenly his hands were caught in a vice-like grip. He could feel his own pulse against Severus’ palms for a brief moment, until the warmth of those hands were replaced by the feel of oh so soft fur and the strength of dragonhide wrapping around his wrists. The cuffs pulled his arms back over his head as he was moved back towards the wall once again. Severus’ hands traced patterns over his skin as they moved together. Those confunded buttons were cold as they scratched along his left side. Cold? Scratchy? He raised his eyes to see the expanse of pale skin in front of him. He knew he hadn’t undone that many buttons and Severus hadn’t the time to for it. Oh yes spells were a wonderful thing!

He pressed forward as far as his restraint would allow him to go. He wanted; no he needed to feel Severus against him. All of those acres and acres of skin, all his to caress to kiss and to love. Harry found his train of thought derailed; suddenly Severus seemed to read his mind and come oh so close, that Harry could feel his breath on his skin. The moisture and the heat made him feel as if his skin couldn’t contain everything that he was feeling. Nails stopping briefly at a nipple, to pinch and pull, raising it from his skin. Soft swirls and arabesques punctuated by strong straight lines across his chest. He couldn’t anticipate where those clever, evil fingers would strike next. All he could was follow them and want for more… much more.

“Severussssssss,” it wasn’t Parseltongue. It was need/want/hunger/love all rolled up into one exhalation.

“Mine,” was all he heard in return as Severus closed that last bit of space between them and captured his mouth in a deepening kiss. Those lips that looked so cold and cruel when twisted in the man’s usual scowls and smirks were hot, pliable, and hungry as they met his. The lash of Severus’ sarcasm was nothing compared to the taste of his tongue as it parted Harry’s lips.

Severus wrapped his arms around Harry lifting him a few centimetres off the ground as he devoured the mouth that was open for him. His hands were firm and strong as he followed along the lines of muscles that training and Quidditch had developed along Harry’s back and shoulders. The scratch of his nails causing Harry to shiver and moan against him. Silence hadn’t been requested. He enjoyed hearing the sounds of need that escaped from Harry’s throat.

Harry tried to move even closer to the warmth and the strength of the body in front of him. His erection throbbed in the breeze made by the movements of their dance. He could feel all of his blood and thoughts rushing to his groin. It was always like this, he never remembered completely in the time between just how hard and painful and good it felt to be held like this, to need this man this much and to know he was wanted, needed just the same in return.

 

A sharp pinch on his arse caused him to gasp and jerk to the ends of the restraints. There was no more room to move in them at all. He needed to get closer to be surrounded, encompassed by the one man he trusted more than any other. Two hands rose to his shoulder and firmly began to turn him to face the wall…

 

…. Harry sighed as the memory of the last time he had seen Severus both alive and well began to fade. Leaving an ache in his heart and the remembrance of an arse so sore he hadn’t been able to fly well for several days after. The cushioning charms he'd had to use made it all worth while, riding a broom was no comparison to being ridden by Severus. He reached into his sleeve and removed the silver and dragonhide necklace that he carried there. He might never have worn it since the day Severus had disappeared but it was always with him. It had been with him though all of the post-war ceremonies and speeches, at his wedding and his divorce from Ginny and at the births of each of his children. Carefully he placed it around his neck. The very weight of it was comforting and relaxing all at once. He knew now that even if what he had been told all those years ago was correct, and Severus was truly dead, this necklace… this collar would never leave his neck again.

“Severus, I miss you.“ Harry murmured into the room. “I wish hadn’t listened to Albus’ portrait. I should have come looking for you. But I thought if you were alive that you’d find me. That’s no excuse, no reason, I should have looked for you long before now. But I did what everyone wanted. I married Ginny, raised my kids, and took my place in the Ministry. All of everyone’s expectations for their hero have been fulfilled and it’s time I look for what I want, for what I lost that night, for you.” Harry’s voice was broken with longing. Tears clouded his eyes. He never heard the creak of the door behind him.

He didn’t see the black cloaked shape move from the doorway into their room.

He knew nothing until a cool, long fingered hand grasped his shoulder and long remembered voice said….

“Harry.”


End file.
